It's all just a show right now, like the song says. We need to keep the audience calm, so keep playing,” he said.

  “He's right,” Isabella said. “Let's keep the show going as long as we can.”

  “Don't worry; I'll help you out,” he said.

  It turned out Derek had a good voice and was a decent singer, and it was nice for the women to get a break from singing. He also managed to catch the crowd's attention in a way the band hadn't managed despite the somewhat depressing nature of the songs he chose. The crowd seemed more relaxed the more he played with the band.

  Mr. Linkowski waved at the band and Isabella wrapped up the song.

  “Can everyone hear me?” he roared.

  “Somewhere there's a Mountie wondering who's talking to him,” Leah muttered.

  Derek sniggered.

  “Well, looks like we got lucky tonight. The storm's passed and the plows are out. The highways should be cleared in about an hour. That means this is final call. I'll keep you updated. And let's give a big hand to the band for playing for us.”

  The audience clapped and cheered, but the band was pretty sure their adulation was for the snowplows, not for them. Then they headed to the bar.

  “Right, ladies, I'd better get your drinks now,” Derek said.

  “What the hell,” Nora said. “We've still got an hour before the highways are cleared. We'll probably be here for a few more hours at least.”

  “See, I like that attitude.”

  “But I'm sure lots of people got hurt,” Maryann said. “It doesn't seem right to celebrate that.”

  “We're not. We're celebrating the fact we're alive. Anyway, you may find when get a chance to watch the morning news that the situation wasn't as dire as it seemed,” he said. “I have a good feeling about that, and I'm usually right about these things.”

  “What did you do while you were singing?” she asked.

  “I have a relaxed attitude about the macabre...”

  “We noticed,” Nora said dryly.

  “Sometimes, under the right circumstances, with enough rum and other favors, I can pass that attitude onto others, at least for a little while. So, that's what I did.”

  “Well, that was nice of you,” Isabella said. “We sure weren't doing a great job at that.”

  “It was much easier to use the music,” he replied. “So I appreciate your playing back-up band for my magic.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  “Now, it's still Valentine's Day, and I'm still looking to share it with a lovely lady, or four.”

  “Yeah, that's not really our thing,” Leah said. “But I think I'm flattered.”

  “That's fine. I'll still get you drinks, and then hopefully Anna will sit at the bar with me for a little while?” he asked.

  She blushed under her make-up. “Oh, alright.”

  “Great,” he said with a wide grin, and walked away.

  “I hope he's right that the storm wasn't so bad,” Maryann said.

  “Well, we'll find out when everyone else does,” Leah replied.

  “Yeah. And as the poem goes, we've still got miles to go before we sleep,” Nora added.

  “I think the old saying is, 'smoke if you got 'em,'” Leah said.

  “That's what I said.”

  “Ladies. Let's just relax,” Isabella interrupted. “It's been a long night, and it isn't over. But at least we know we'll get out of this.”

  Derek returned with drinks that were exactly what the band wanted, even though they hadn't given him an order. He held out his arm. “Anna?”

  She tucked her arm through his. “You guys don't mind handling the gear, right?”

  “It's fine,” Isabella said. “Go have fun.”

  “Thanks!”

  “And we do the work,” Leah sighed.

  “She sure knows how to pick 'em,” Nora said. “What am I even looking at?”

  “Someone who's comfortable with death,” Isabella answered. “And good for him. And I'm glad he helped us out with the crowd.” She took a sip of her drink. “Well, let's start breaking down the gear.”

  They got to work. Four hours later, they were cleared to leave the building. Isabella got them to their hotel, and they gratefully went to bed as the sun was just coming up.

  The Lyrics:

  I'm ready for a party; I've put on my dress

  The guests are coming; everyone's invited

  The band is ready and tuning up

  It'll be the biggest blast this town has ever seen

  Even the gods would love this happenin' time

  The party's started and everyone's having fun

  Praise Bacchus and pass along the wine

  The only one who's upset is that silly Vulcun

  Refrain: Vesuvius has turned red and hot

  We're havin' so much fun we don't care

  The ground is rumbling and shakin'

  To the beat of the music in the air

  Then there's a sound that splits the sky

  The ash, it coats everything,

  The pyroclastic flows go by

  Maybe we should have evacuated

  Whoops, it’s time for the afterlife,

  To the Elysium Fields I go,

  To see my friends from Herculaneum

  And continue the party with Pluto

  Refrain x2

  Track 10: Spectrum of Black

  The Interview:

  Brad: This one is a more alternative rock song with hooks that lean towards prog rock. What inspired you to write a song about the color black?

  Lee: Black gets a bad reputation. It's associated with death.

  Belle: And aggression. Scientific studies have shown athletes who wear black are more aggressive. This is probably because we associate black with death.

  Lenore: A lot of carrion birds are black.

  Anna: And it's associated with bad luck and other bad things. Black cats are unlucky. Black dogs haunt England.

  Lenore: So we wanted to show some positive associations.

  Brad: Not all the verses are very positive.

  Belle: No. Some are not. Some are neutral.

  Brad: Is this song actually about death?

  Lee: No. It's about black.

  Brad: Is death the inspiration?

  Anna: Death is a common inspiration for artists, right? Why should we be any different?

  Lenore: Some artists were almost obsessed with death. Poe, for example, and Dickinson.

  Brad: That's kind of morbid.

  Belle: Death doesn't have to be morbid. Death is just death. Black doesn't have to be unlucky or aggressive either. It's just a color. Our emotions make it more than it is.

  Brad: Black or death?

  Lenore: Either, or both.

  The Flashback:

  The band calling themselves Nevermore and the Ravens had paused their rehearsal and were taking a break in Maryann's basement. Leah and Isabella were relaxing with a video game.

  “So, what's this thing again?” Leah asked. “The thing you were talking about this morning?”

  “'The Thirty-Fourth Annual Central Mid-West Tri-County Monster Mash and Fourteenth Annual Battle of the Bands,'” Maryann repeated patiently.

  “Why is the Monster Mash thirty-fourth annual but the Battle of the Bands is only the fourteenth annual? Darn it, Isabella, I hate it when you do that,” she said, her attention half-occupied by the game.

  “Well, about fifteen years ago, some kids egged the mayor's house, so he came up with the Battle of the Bands as a way to keep kids too old for trick-or-treating off the streets and out of trouble.”

  “Has it worked?” Nora asked dryly.

  “The mayor's house hasn't been egged on Halloween again.”

  “The way you say that makes me think the mayor's house has been egged on other occasions,” Isabella said. “But anyway, tell us more about this event.”

  “First prize is a consultation with Bert Rafel, a real music agent!?
??

  “And we have to play in a barn?” Nora asked.

  “No. It's held at the tri-county fairgrounds. We'll be on the main stage.”

  “It looks like a big barn,” she said, examining the flyer.

  “Well, it is where the fair holds the livestock show.”

  “That's a barn.”

  “Darn it Isabella!” Leah exclaimed. “You ran me off the track!”

  “Well, look, do you guys have a better idea to meet a real agent?” Maryann asked. “We can keep playing high school homecoming dances and proms.”

  “Do we get a contract with this agent?” Isabella asked.

  “Um, no. Not exactly. But we get to meet with him!”

  The rest of the band looked skeptical.

  “Hey, at least it's a chance, and a better one than we've got now. Look, I know your parents aren't happy with this,” Maryann said. “Leah, I know your parents wanted you to go to college closer to home.”

  “Only so they could get me married off,” she sighed.

  “And Nora, what do your parents call this place?”

  “Podunk University,” she said acidly. “They're really trying to get me to transfer to Juilliard.”

  “See? This could really be our chance.”

  “She's right,” Isabella sighed. “This whole band thing is crazy, but this is a real opportunity. We win over the audience, and then we get a chance to win over a real agent.”

  “Fine. We'll play in a barn,” Nora said. “On Halloween.”

  “You don't think anything weird will happen, do you?” Maryann asked. “I mean, considering how we met and all?”

  “That would be pretty cliché, wouldn't it?” Leah said. “I'm sure we're not going to be chased by monsters or visited by ghosts or anything.”

  “Well, then we should figure out how we want to present ourselves. What are the rules?” Isabella asked.

  “Um, let's see,” Maryann said, adjusting her glasses. “Ok, there's a limit of fifteen bands. Everyone gets to play the same set of instruments, provided by the organizers.”

  “That's good because our